


Skater boy Yev (except not really)

by angrysmolthug



Series: How Mickey and Ian find love [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Accountant Mickey Milkovich, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, EMT Ian Gallagher, M/M, Pre-teen yevgeny, Yev tries to skate and fails miserably, a few slurs but not actually spoken out loud, the word 'fuck' and variations thereof are used a lot, their lives are mostly the same they just never really met
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28821588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrysmolthug/pseuds/angrysmolthug
Summary: “What’s it to you, chuckles?” Mickey sneers at him and that’s the moment the man actually looks his way for the first time and Mickey is suddenly at a loss for words. Because fuck, this man is beautiful. He’s got pretty, green eyes and freckles and nice lips that look really, really soft. Mickey’s never been fond of kissing, but he wants to kiss this man just to find out how soft those lips really are. Fuck. It’s not just his face, because the rest of him is breathtaking as well, bulging biceps and a narrow waist above strong thighs. It’s obviously he’s grown since getting his uniform, because the thing doesn’t fit quite right anymore. Mickey is pretty sure he is drooling and this is the worst possible timing because his son is hurt and lying on the concrete and here he is almost popping a boner because of some fucking carrot-top.OR: Yevgeny manages to have a nasty fall while skateboarding and Mickey takes an interest in the very hot, very nice, red-haired EMT that comes to his sons rescue.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: How Mickey and Ian find love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114400
Comments: 20
Kudos: 168





	Skater boy Yev (except not really)

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been in the fandom a month or two and honestly, in my six or so years on ao3, this was the first ship that actually compelled me to write a fic! I just love Mickey and Ian so much. And Yev!
> 
> Not beta-read, all mistakes are mine and English is not my native language! Also, I have no idea how the whole EMT/ambulance/hospital shit works in the USA, so what I wrote is mostly based on what I saw on the show and a little bit of research and just... guessing.
> 
> So Mickey and Ian have their canon lives, mostly, and have never really met, though they do realise they know who the other's family is. I just really love the kind of AU's that use their background and the drama that happened in canon, but I don't like when they have to go through it together? Because that shit hurts, man.
> 
> Also, it was a lot of fun to write Mickey! I really hope I didn't make him or Ian too OOC, honestly kind of scared of that, haha.

If ten years ago someone had told Mickey this is where he would be right now, he would have laughed right in their face. And then punched them. Hard. Fuck, ten years ago Mickey was in prison, one year of his sentence served. Prison had sucked, but not as much as it would have if his name hadn’t been Milkovich. That’s how he got through it, mostly, by acting tough and using his name as a shield. He behaved, kind of, as much as a Milkovich could, and got out early on parole after three years. 

But alas, prison was a long time ago and he is almost thirty fucking years old now, with a steady job and a mortgage on a house in a neighbourhood that borders on middle-class. Contrary to what he had ever expected, he had made it out of the fucking South Side. Not just that, but he is all fucking respectable now. He wears a tie to work and he pays his taxes and he goes to fucking parent-teacher conferences.

Because the best thing about it all, about this strange life that a teenage Mickey would have been disgusted by, is his son. He had hated Yev at first, hated his kid for what he represented, for taking away his freedom. However, after prison, when he had held his son in his arms for the first time – he had told Svetlana not to visit because he didn’t want to see the kid, but in reality, he hadn’t wanted the kid to see him behind bars – he had immediately fallen in love with the fucker. 

He and Svet are okay now, they are civil. She has a fucking wife now and sometimes he looks at the two of them with Yev and jealousy burns in his gut because he wants something like that. Fuck, it's kind of hilarious and he wishes that Terry could see it, that the woman he ordered to ‘fuck the faggot out of his son’ is a big fucking queer herself.

He hasn’t dated since he got out of prison. Shit, he never actually dated before prison, but even now that he could, he didn’t. At first, he was too preoccupied, with his new job and a four-year-old Yevgeny staying the weekends. Later that changed to having Yev every other week. Then, his dad got out of prison again and while he knew the chances of ever running into his father again were slim to none, he was terrified. Terry had died three years later when Yev was seven. He had sent Yev to Svetlana for the night and had celebrated with Mandy and Iggy by getting spectacularly drunk. 

Anyway, he hasn’t had a serious relationship in his life, like, ever. Just random hookup with guys he meets at gay bars in the weeks that Yev is with his moms. Eventually, that didn’t satisfy anymore and he had stopped. It has been two fucking years since he got laid. Fuck, he is pathetic.

He is happy, though, sort of. He has his kid and a slightly boring but well-paying job as an accountant – he’d always been good with numbers – and an amicable relationship with his ex-wife. He is happy, even if sometimes it feels like there is still a hole in his life that has a very specific, man-shaped outline. But he has never met anyone he thought could fill that hole. Not even the guy he used to fuck around with, with his blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, the one that was kind of the reason he has Yev. Nearing thirty, he has given up on the idea of every filling that hole. 

Yevgeny is a fucking genius, which shouldn’t be a surprise, because while Mickey flunked most of his classes in high school and had struggled with most of his GED except for math, Svetlana is smart as fuck. However, Yev is also still a fucking Milkovich, which means he is stubborn and mouthy and occasionally a little reckless. He doesn’t have Mickey’s anger issues, not really, doesn’t fix everything with a punch – even though Mickey did teach him how to do it right – but he has a bit of a temper sometimes. Mickey has considered that Milkovich genes just don’t breed pacifists, but then again Iggy exists, who has become a big fucking softie since he got out from under their father's thumb. No, it must just be the combination of Mickey’s Milkovich-ness and Svetlana’s fiery temperament – he likes to call it bitchiness – that makes his son the way he is. 

The moment his phone rings in the middle of a Saturday afternoon and Yev’s name pops up on the screen, he knows his kid has managed to get himself in trouble again. Yev’s twelve now and seemingly adamant to get in every kind of trouble he can get into. Shit, he got in a fight last week and Mickey of all people had to scold him for it in front of the principal. Yev had just nodded along, but the glint in his eyes said he wasn’t buying Mickey’s bullshit. Which, honestly, Mickey wasn’t too torn up about because the reason Yev had punched the kid was because he was bullying some girl. In actuality, Mickey was really fucking proud, both of his son’s sense of righteousness and the damage he had managed to do without hurting himself too much. He would never let Yev know about that last part. 

So here he was, standing in his backyard with dirt-stains on his knees and sweat staining his shirt, looking down at his phone as it rang. He wasn’t in the mood for this shit, maybe Yev could just call Svetlana. He immediately chastises himself for thinking about and picks up the phone. 

“What’s up, Yev?” 

There is no response at first, but then a voice that is decidedly not Yevgeny’s answers: “Mr Milkovich? This is Aaron Jones, from two streets over? Your son fell at the skate park across from my house. I’ve already called an ambulance. Can you come over here please?”  
He hasn’t even said the last word or Mickey has hung up and he is sprinting out of his back yard and along the street. Somethings happened to Yev. It has to be something serious, right, if they’ve called an ambulance? Oh fuck, Svetlana is going to kill him. She hates that skateboard. Mickey does too, but Yev had begged for ages and he’d just given in. Shit, Svet is also going to be on his ass about being right that Yev needs a phone, he really doesn’t want that speech. 

As he rounds a corner he can see the skate park in the distance and the EMT truck just arriving. From where’s he’s running he can see two people getting out and going over to a place where a group of people is gathered, mostly kids. The two shoo everyone away and when he reaches the skate park, most of them have wandered off to the sides but are still watching. He approaches, but a woman in EMT uniform holds up her hand, signalling him to stay back. He notices how she takes him in and he knows what he must look like right now, dirty and sweaty, with his signature shirt with the sleeves cut off – because he still loves those – and the FUCK U-UP written across his knuckles. 

He glares at her, attempting to push past her as he says: “Fuck off, that’s my son.”

She steps back quickly, mumbling an apology, but he ignores it, hurries over to where his Yev’s still laying on the ground. 

His face is streaked with tears and his head is resting on someone’s jacket and next to him sits a girl his age - she’s black and he vaguely recognizes her as one of the twins Yev’s friends with, though he never really brings his friends to Mickey’s house – and on his other sides a big man with bright red hair and wearing a very, very tight EMT uniform is crouched down. Jones is standing next to them and the moment he sees the relief cross his face when he notices Mickey. 

“Mr Milkovich!”

Mickey just grunts in response, kneeling down next the EMT and his son.

“Yev? Yev?!”

Yev opens his eyes slowly, glaring at his dad in a way that only a Milkovich can. 

“Shut up,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Don’t yell so loud.”

The EMT is examining Yev’s leg and when Mickey looks over he immediately notices the way it’s just so, so very wrong. 

“Shit, Yev, what did you do,” he says, softly laying a hand on his son’s head.

“I just fell,” he whispers back and Mickey would love to believe him, but he doesn’t, knows that Yev probably tried to do some difficult trick he definitely wasn’t ready for. 

“Fuck, I told you that skateboard was dangerous, you’re too young for those tricks and shit! And why weren’t you wearing any protection?!”

Yev glares at him again. “Stop about the dangerous already, Aunt Mandy told me all about you when you were my age.”

Shit, his kid really has an answer to fucking everything. Fair is fair, when Mickey was twelve he was not skateboarding but he was definitely not being safe. He got in a fight almost every day and he would steal from the convenience store or that little corner store owned by the towelhead. He would defend Mandy from his father and get beaten up for it. Shit, he’s pretty sure he was helping out with B&E’s by twelve. He hopes Mandy made the stories about Mickey’s childhood and teenage years at least a little child-friendly, but he sincerely doubts it, knowing his sister. 

“Aunt Mandy talks out of her ass,” he grumbles and the red-haired EMT, who had gone and come back with the woman and the stuff he needed, laughs a little at his word. 

“What’s it to you, chuckles?” Mickey sneers at him and that’s the moment the man actually looks his way for the first time and Mickey is suddenly at a loss for words. Because fuck, this man is beautiful. He’s got pretty, green eyes and freckles and nice lips that look really, really soft. Mickey’s never been fond of kissing, but he wants to kiss this man just to find out how soft those lips really are. Fuck. It’s not just his face, because the rest of him is breathtaking as well, bulging biceps and a narrow waist above strong thighs. It’s obvious he’s grown since getting his uniform because the thing doesn’t fit quite right anymore. Mickey is pretty sure he is drooling and this is the worst possible timing because his son is hurt and lying on the concrete and here he is almost popping a boner because of some fucking carrot-top. 

“Sorry sir,” the redhead grins at him and for a moment Mickey wonders if he’d seen the way Mickey looked at him just now.

The two EMT’s get to work and the redhead explains the situation to Mickey as they work. “It’s pretty close to being an open fracture, the bone is this close to coming through the skin, so he’ll have to go to the hospital. He’s also has a small head wound and most likely a concussion.” 

Mickey looks at Yev’s leg again and he can see it now, the way his leg is broken and there is a weird bump at one place and Mickey feels almost nauseous, even if he’s seen injuries much worse in all his years on earth. But this is his son and just the idea of anything being wrong with his kid makes him feel fucking sick. 

“Do you understand, sir?” the woman asks when he doesn’t respond and he feels the urge to snap at her, but he restrains himself. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, please just get him to be okay again? I’ve got insurance, it’s fine, I just want him to be okay again.”

Now he suddenly feels like he is going to cry and shit, what kind of fairy shit is this? What is wrong with him? He breathes in and out deeply and tries to calm himself. The red-haired EMT seems to notice and he grips Mickey’s shoulder tightly as he sends him an reassuring look: “Your son will be fine, sir.” 

“Yeah, dad, I’ll be fine,” Yev quips from his place on the stretcher they had put him on. There is a smirk on his face and Mickey sends his son a warning look, just to make it clear that he really is still mad that Yev wasn’t fucking careful. 

“You want to ride with?” the woman asks.

“Can I?”

She nods, gesturing at him to follow them as they wheel the stretcher over to the back of the truck. 

“I’ll drive, you stay with them in the back,” she tells the redhead and he nods, showing Mickey where to sit and he takes the seat opposite, the stretcher between them.

“So, Mr Milkovich, right?" he asks after a minute of riding in the back of the EMT truck in silence. There is a smirk on his face again and all Mickey wants to do is kiss it off.

Mickey snorts, shakes his head. “Just Mickey, not even my father was Mr Milkovich.”

The red-haired EMT laughs, loud and genuine, head thrown back. Mickey wants to hear that laugh forever. Fuck, what is he thinking? Fucking sappy, faggoty thoughts. Shit, he accepted that he was gay ages ago, but he promised himself he would never, ever be that gay.

“Yeah, I get the feeling, guess that’s growing up South Side. You’re South Side right?” 

He asks it because he knows the name, Mickey realizes. This guy knows what it means to be a fucking Milkovich because he’s South Side and everyone on the South Side knows the Milkoviches. 

“I suppose,” Mickey answers, wringing his hands. 

Yevgeny has clearly been listening in from his spot on the stretcher because he decides to insert himself into the conversation. 

“What is your name?” he asks the redhead. 

“I am Ian, Ian Gallagher,” the man responds.

“Okay, I’m Yevgeny,” Mickey’s son says.

“Wait, Gallagher?” Mickey says, at the exact same moment. “Like Frank Gallagher?”

Ian’s got that smirk on his face again like he knows exactly what Mickey is thinking right now. Mickey remembers Frank Gallagher, the old drunk who used scam hang around the neighbourhood and scam his way into getting alcohol and drugs. He had a lot of outstanding debts with the Milkoviches. He nods and Mickey digs in his brain to remember which of those one hundred kids that lived in that run-down house Ian is. It clicks easily because he’s pretty sure the only other redhead was a girl. Ian Gallagher, Mandy’s age. He’s thinks the two were friends at some point.

“Who’s Frank Gallagher?” Yevgeny asks then, breaking the silence. 

“No one,” Mickey and Ian respond at the same time and they look at each other, grinning. Neither one of them says anything for a bit. 

“Did you call mom?” Yev asks and Mickey can see Ian’s face fall just a little bit at the mention and it fills him with a weird, warm and fuzzy feeling. 

“Shit, fuck, no,” he answers and he starts looking through his pockets for his phone, looking up Svetlana’s number and hovering his thumb over the call-icon for a few seconds. In the end, he decides ‘fuck it’ and taps. 

“What do you want,” Svetlana bitches as soon as she picks up the phone and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yev fell off his skateboard, we’re on our way to the hospital.”

Immediately there is Russian yelling on the other side of the line and he holds the phone a few inches from his ear to make sure he doesn’t go deaf. Ian is grinning again. Clearly, he finds the exchange amusing.

“He is going to be fine, Svet,” Mickey tries, but his ex-wife has never been known for being reasonable. 

“I knew it was dangerous! And how can you not even take care of son?! This is why you are ex-husband!”

Then she hangs up and he glares at his phone as he mutters: “no, it’s not.”

“Didn’t take it well, huh?"

Mickey shakes his head and he sighs. “She’s going to fucking kill me.”

“It’s not really your fault, though?”

“I bought him the skateboard, though I also bought him a helmet and knee and elbow protectors.” He raises his voice a little on the last part and Yev giggles quietly. Mickey can’t really see his face from where he’s sitting, because Yev’s got his head turned the other way, but he has a feeling he knows the look that is currently on his sons face. 

“Maybe Ian can protect you,” Yev says. “He is big and strong; he can take mom on!”

Mickey is pretty sure he can feel himself blushing and he hates his son for being so perceptive. Because Yev knows he’s gay, has for about a year now and he seems to notice every time Mickey even looks twice at a guy. Which, admittedly, happens very, very rarely. 

Ian laughs that magnificent laugh again, but he is shaking his head, saying: “Fuck no, I’m not fighting a Russian woman, I don’t want to die.” 

Smart man, Mickey thinks. 

They’ve arrived at the hospital and Mickey is kind of sad, even though he shouldn’t be, because now Yev can get patched up. He stands to the side as the get the stretcher out of the vehicle and some nurses come to get him and he is told to follow, but it feels like his feet are rooted to the ground. Ian is looking at him, a little nervously like he has something to say. Mickey watches breathlessly as the other man runs his fingers through his short red curls while smiling a little uncomfortably. 

Mickey feels like he should do something, should say something, because he doesn’t want to walk away from Ian, he doesn’t want this moment to end. But he’s never been good with words and feelings, so he forces himself to move towards the doors of the hospital, trying to resist the urge to glance over his shoulder.

“Mickey, wait!”

Mickey turns around, face towards the ground but glancing up through his lashes at the redhead, who seems to still be struggling.

“I- fuck, I really hope I didn’t read any of this wrong, but,” he stops talking for a moment, breathing in deeply. “Just, do you, I don’t know, want to get a drink sometime?”

If ten years ago someone had told Mickey this is where he would be right now, he would have laughed right in their face. And then punched them. Hard. But he’s here now and he’s not that closeted homophobe anymore, he doesn’t hate himself for it anymore. Maybe, just maybe, it is time for him to break his no dating rule. Because he’s feeling fucking butterflies and it’s disgusting, but it feels amazing and he really, really wants to see Ian again.

“Yeah, we can do that.”

Ian’s responding smile could light up the whole fucking city, Mickey thinks, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head. He stands there as Ian approach him, watches as the EMT takes a sharpie out of the pocket of his shirt and takes Mickey’s hand to scribble something on it. His number. 

“Text me, okay?”

Mickey just nods, he doesn’t dare say anything because he is pretty sure his voice wouldn’t cooperate right now. 

“Now go check on your son, I’ve got to get back to work, too.” Ian nods over his shoulder at the woman - Mickey just heard someone call her Rita-, who is leaning against her truck and watching the two of them. Mickey feels the urge to run, hide away, but he resists it. Instead, he clears his throat and nods, taking his hand back from where Ian was still holding it. The other man hadn’t seemed to notice that either and his cheeks flush a little as he realizes. 

“See ya, man,” Mickey says.

Ian smiles softly. “Yeah, see ya.”

He turns around after that, walking towards Rita and Mickey also turns, going for the doors of the hospital. He looks back one more time apparently at the same time as Ian and he catches the other man’s gaze again. It lasts just a second too long because Mickey almost trips over something and he can feel cheeks burn as he finally makes his way into the hospital. He can’t get Ian out of his head, not as he waits until they are done with Yev or while Svetlana yells at him or when he is sitting next to Yev’s bed a while later. 

“That Ian’s?” Yev asks when he notices the phone number and from the other side of the bed, Svetlana raises an eyebrow at Mickey.

“Yeah.”

“You should text him.” Yev is grinning that mischievous grin again, the one that he seems to have learned from Mandy. 

Mickey smiles a little. “Yeah, I will. I will text him.”

He’s almost thirty. It is time for a change, maybe it is time to fill the hole. He feels like Ian might be an annoyingly perfect fit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it :) 
> 
> I might write more! Either make this chaptered or as a series, I haven't decided yet and I know from experience I shouldn't jump into committing to stories to quickly. But let me know if you would like to see a continuation of this story!
> 
> I've also made a new, shameless-centered Tumblr account under the name angry-smol-thug and I'm looking for more people to follow! It's quite empty still...


End file.
